


Poor Unfortunate Soul

by HookerStiles



Series: Random One Shots [3]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Hurt!Stiles, I blame Disney Songs, Mild Steter, Most characters mentioned, Season 2 Alternative Ending, creeper!peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HookerStiles/pseuds/HookerStiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter finds Stiles and offers him the bite a second time</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poor Unfortunate Soul

**Author's Note:**

> // I blame Disney songs for this one. Inspired by the song "Poor Unfortunate Souls" from The Little Mermaid. The idea that Peter would try and sell the bite to Stiles more intrigued me, this song came on and *waves at the fic* This is the result. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I do not own anything to do with Teen Wolf. Comments are always welcome :) Hope you enjoy!

After finally being released from the Argent basement, watching poor Boyd and Erica suffer low grade electric shocks, Stiles stumbled to his jeep, limping slightly, bruised, beaten, broken. He had a text on his phone from Scott, demanding he get to an abandoned warehouse asap, with a way to stop Jackson. Aka, the Kanima. Sighing softly, then wincing as it causes his ribs to ache, he gingerly climbs into the jeep, starting his baby up and driving to Lydia’s. If anyone can cure Jackson, she could.

 And he was right. After the Disney style declarations of love, Jackson transformed from the Kanima into a Beta werewolf. Also, the Zombie wolf, Peter Hale, was apparently back from the dead. Good to know. He shakes his head lightly, mentally cursing both Scott and Derek’s lack of communication on important things. Not wanting to stick around and watch the only girl he ever loved make out with her popular boyfriend, Stiles climbed back into his jeep and drove away without another word. Why should he bother? It’s not like they cared or anything. Scott didn’t care if his “best friend” had been kidnapped and beaten by his girlfriend’s family. Scott didn’t care if he had been abandoning his friend more and more, only came to him to complain how hard life as a werewolf was. While Stiles tried to see things from all angles, Scott only seemed to see things from his own perspective.

Arriving home, Stiles is actually glad for once that his dad is working late. It means he’ll have time to come up with a lie about how he got the bruises, a plausible one that won’t make his dad give him the disappointed look. Slowly making his way to his room, he doesn’t bother turning on any of the lights, he knows the house like the back of his hand. Once inside his room, he quietly closes the door and drops his things on the floor, before lifting his gaze to his bed, longing to just pass out on it, and jumping in surprise, a (manly) yelp escaping his lips as his gaze locks with, of course, Peter Hale. Creeper Extraordinaire. Scrubbing at his face tiredly, Stiles still walks to his bed, faceplanting next to the wolf, his words muffled by his pillow.

 

“What do you want, Zombie Wolf? I thought you died? You know, ceased to exist? Dead? Was no more? And so on, and so forth?”

 

Peter merely chuckled, reclining beside Stiles, as if he had permission to make himself comfortable, which he certainly did _not_!

 

“My dear Stiles, delightful to see you again too. I bet you missed me too. But, there was a specific reason I came here to see you, so shall we get down to it?”

 

Groaning softly at the innuendo, Stiles turned his head on the pillow just enough to glare at the older man.

 

“Pervert. What do you want? And make it quick, I have things to do. Important things”

 

“Like, what? Homework? Or taping up the possibly cracked ribs that no one else noticed you were sporting? And, no, they didn’t notice you leaving abruptly either, before you ask …”

 

Sighing softly, Stiles turned his face to the pillow again. What a surprise, no one cared about the fragile, loyal human.

 

“They are stupid not to notice you, Stiles. So intelligent. So feisty. You would sacrifice your life for them, and none of them would do the same for you. Now, I ask you, how fair is that? I thought they were your friends?”

 

Leaning close, Peter gently inhaled Stiles pained scent, almost shuddering at how it aroused him. His hand ghosted down the boy’s back, aching to touch, but knowing he mustn’t … Not yet…

 

“Stiles … I offered you the bite once. If I offered you again … Would you still be stubborn and refuse it, even though we both know you want it?”

 

Stiles’ body froze, before his head turned back again, gaze meeting the older man’s steadily, no scent of fear from him, just puzzlement.

 

“But … You’re a Beta now … Derek took your Alpha powers when you died … “

 

“How about I let you in on a little secret, Stiles …?”

 

Leaning closer to the boy, his face merely inches away, his eyes flared red, a small smirk curving his lips.

 

“Come on Stiles … Say yes … You won’t be considered the weak little human anymore … You’ll be everyone’s equal. No more will they drown you out. No more will you be pushed aside. Accept the bite … Be mine … And no one will dare ever hurt you, or your father, again …”

 

Stiles had been prepared to lie again and say he didn’t want the bite but … Peter made him want it. Wanted the things Peter offered. Wanted it more than anything. Especially to protect his dad. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his head to glance at Peter.

 

“Maybe I should call you Ursula instead of Zombie wolf, coming after the ‘poor unfortunate soul’ and offering to make it better … for a price … “

 

Peter merely smirks at the comparison, before lifting Stiles’ wrist gently, rolling him on to his back, but mindful of the injured ribs.

 

“Say yes, Stiles … you know more about being a wolf than the others … You will be a magnificent wolf …”

 

Stiles bites his lip, hesitant. The twinging in his bruises, his ribs, decides it for him. Lifting the edge of his shirt, he pulls it up to expose his side, closing his eyes as he awaits the pain. But his eyes snap open as Peter instead runs his fingers lightly along the pale wrist before tugging it close.

 

“If you’re going to be a wolf, Stiles, you’ll be /my/ wolf …”

 

Stiles opens his mouth to protest, but is cut off with a strangled cry as Peter’s eyes flare red, and the wolf’s fangs pierce the delicate skin, marking him.

 

/His/ new wolf. /His/ mate.


End file.
